


A Chess Game

by BarPurple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Before a study in pink, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pre-Season/Series 01, Talk of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:06:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Cabbie Sherlock met, he wasn't the first. Jim always has a plan B.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chess Game

She rolled the little jar between her fingers.

“What’s in this?”

“What does it matter?”

He sounded confused, as if no one had ever asked that before. She heaved a sighed.

“It matters to me. Like you said this is my death I get to choose, so what’s in this?”

She listened as he rattled off a lot of meaningless chemicals and shook her head. Not a single one of them made any sense to her. She interrupted him mid-spiel.

“Shoot me.”

“What? Why?”

“That sounded like a lot of opiates and E number. That ain’t going to work for me. Three failed overdoses and a serve allergy. I know what my body can take, so if you don’t mind shoot me.”

He didn’t move; her would be murderer was apparently stunned. She threw the little jar away and held up her hands.

“Shoot me. That was the deal right? I take a pill or you shoot me. Well I’ve chosen. Shoot me.”

He blinked at her.

“No one ever picks the gun.”

“Well, good for me I’m the first. Head shot if you would. Quicker and all that.”

She braced herself for the requested inevitable. Nothing happened. There was a fair bit of impatience in her tone as she asked; “What are you waiting for?”

“You want to die?”

He sounded unsure, hesitant even. She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“I thought that was the point? You pick people who want… oh I get it now, you just pick people, whether they want to die of not. Bloody hell. Do they all fall for that? Really? Oh that’s kinda sad. Watching the news I honestly thought you were on a helpful suicide mission. Y’know, I actually wanted you to pick me, made it easier for me; bit of a coward you see, what with the problems I have with drugs and the fact I won’t jump in front of a tube or bus, don’t want to disturb the driver, also can’t stand the sight of my own blood, I honestly thought you’d do the deed for me. Fuck. Got that one wrong didn’t I?”

The cabbie adjusted his baseball cap as he shuffled his feet.

“This is a bit awkward, nobody has ever picked the gun before.”

She nodded understandingly, but there was still disbelief in her tone when she spoke;

“Really? Why not? Got to be quicker hasn’t it? Unless you’re a terrible shot.”

He held it out for her to take.

“It’s not a real gun you see.”

She took if from him and examined it. The barrel was blocked.

“Ah. Oh. Well, you’re buggered then. What’s to stop me walking out of here?”

He gave her a shrug.

“Up until now that’s not been a problem.”

There was a very awkward pause.

“So what happens next?”

“Don’t know.”

Several thoughtful moments went by. The cabbie cleared his throat, but said nothing; she rolled her shoulders and said;

“I guess I can just walk away. I mean you go scot free. I don’t know how I’d report this to the police without them thinking I was completely nuts.”

The cabbie coughed and looked uncertain.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure my sponsor would be happy about that.”

“Yeah, that could be a problem for you.”

RING RING

“Excuse me a moment.”

She slowly waved her hand.

“Please I’m not going anywhere.”

He answered the phone.

“Hello? … Yeah I get that … well what can I do?.... yeah… okay … hang on”

The cabbie offered her the phone.

“He wants to talk to you.”

She took the phone and said hello after a few moments she said,

“Okay sounds legit.”

She snapped the phone shut and grinned at the cabbie, “We’re to walk out of here, apparently I’m not what he’s looking for and that’s okay, no probs for you, I’m just, how did he put it? Oh yeah outside the bell curve.”

“Cool, let’s go then.”

BANG

She didn’t flinch, just stood next to the body and waited. Sharp footsteps approached, but she didn’t turn round until a voice by her ear said;

“Hello, my dear. I’m Moriarty.”

“Hi apparently I’m your new recruit.”

A figure from the shadows behind her twisted and moved into sight. He was sharply dressed and oh so very cool. A very expensive shoe toed the corpse at her feet. He made a grand show of looking her up and down, before tilting his head to one side and grinning at her.

“Yes. Yes you are.”

He turned sharply on his heel and walked away. After a few steps he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“Do come on. Haven’t got all day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this is what happens when I re-watch A Study in Pink after *lots* of back pain meds.


End file.
